Touch
by penvision
Summary: Takes place after Dr. Gill is killed, kind of AU. A look at the changes and snags Jiro must adapt to after having his dreams come true. One-shot


Title: Touch  
  
Summary: Stand alone, takes place after the last episode of Kikaider where Jiro kills the big Dr. and becomes human. A lot of things are different now that Jiro's human, but what's his favorite?  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Kikaider or any of the characters in the Anime.  
  
A/N: I've decided to branch out into other genres and thought that Kikaider was as good a place as any to start. This is a one-shot, that means no other chapters, no sequel, nothing after this. Which, depending on how the story goes, could be a good thing.  
  
………………….  
  
Being human is… different than he expected. He knew some of the consequences, the psychological and spiritual changes were what he longed for… and received in full. However he was not ready for the additional physical changes that came with the title. After the building was demolished, the first thing he realized subsequent to coming to was that he was wedged between the floorboards and a steal rafter. He sat up and registered a startlingly new feeling, his first new sensation after wonder: pain. Like a child, afraid and uneducated of this new sensation, he found himself biting back stinging tears.  
  
Did he feel pain as a robot? Well, yes and no, he decided. After all, he did feel certain things, being smashed against a wall, holding a hand, or even a kiss. On the contrary there was no emotion linked to these things because his sensors were unable to tell them apart. Pressure and even a little texture were revealed, but there was no distinction at all in pain and pleasure.  
  
'Well,' he can remember thinking, 'there's a distinction now, isn't there?' Tears held back, Jiro outstretched his hands and tried to force the board off of his legs. The second thing he mentally observed that night was how weak he was. Surely a part of it was that he was drained from the fight, but he knew that human muscles could not compare to his metal limbs. His fear increased at this simple discovery and he shoved harder. Nothing budged from its place. He scanned the area around him, searching for anything that could help him. The room had been demolished and wreckage was everywhere. The floorboards to his right were even shattered, a hole five feet wide and pitch black visible. To his immediate right was a large, black urn, suspended half way over the chasm, the other half barely resting on the floor next to him.  
  
Jiro found himself inspecting the beam covering him once more. The steel wires that had suspended it from the ceiling were still connected, one to his right at the end of the rafter, one in the center, hanging a little towards him, caught on a hook hanging from the ceiling, and another at the opposite base. He noticed that this one was snagged on something and followed its length with his eyes. Caught on the second story catwalk, leaving the beam an inch off of the flooring. A quick mental assessment and he had devised a simple and desperate plan. He seized the cable in front of him and painstakingly tied it to the urn. Jiro smiled, he knew physics well enough, being designed from the science's rules. He shoved the urn with all of his human energy and grinned as it plunged into the darkness. With a *twang* the steal cable caught and pressed on the hook holding it, causing the urn's decent to be drawn-out. The hook swung with momentum towards his skull and he flew back against the ground. His head turned to the watch the left base of the rafter. An echoing *bang* signaled that the urn had reached its destination, Jiro had hoped that the basement floor would be a little further down.  
  
The pulley did its job to a disappointing extent, lifting the beam perhaps an additional inch off of the floor, nevertheless it was now balanced on two cables. Jiro returned to an upright position, taking one last gamble and shoving the beam off of his legs. It stubbornly swung forward and away no more than a foot, and he quickly removed his legs. Leaping up and back just as the hook holding the center cable gave out, Jiro sighed in exhaustion as the beam returned to the floor with an earth shattering crash. He was free.  
  
………………….  
  
The drawbacks of being human continued to manifest themselves as Jiro began walking away from the rubble. He could not recall which new sensation he experienced first as he traveled along the sidewalk to what he assumed would return him to Mitsuko; famine or fatigue. Alas, he had absolutely no conception of what either sensation meant, all he knew was that his stomach hurt like hell and he felt like he would collapse. His eyelids constantly drifted shut and his legs scarcely held up his form.  
  
Jiro remembered that Mitsuko ate food everyday. That seemed like a good, normal human thing to do. Though he did not comprehend the reasons for his pain, he theorized that acting like a human would help, since these were evidently human aches. He reached into the pocket of his shredded pants and pulled out the last of his money before heading towards a sign that blinked ' ama's Din r.'  
  
The bell above the door jingled, announcing his presence to the small diner made of nothing more than a few booths and a dirty counter. Three people were there, a cook, a waitress, and Jiro. Jiro took a seat at the counter.  
  
"What'll it be, hun?"  
  
"Uh…" Damn it! He could not for the life of him remember how this part worked.  
  
"Don't bother, mama," the cook garbled, "burner's off until dinner, so you get a sandwich and some coffee, got it?" Jiro nodded and placed the money on the counter as 'mama' filled his mug with black coffee. "Don' bother, kid, 's on the house. Use that money for sometin' else, you look like shit."  
  
Jiro felt a light blush color his cheeks. He slipped the money back into his pocket and brought the coffee to his lips, but even before he took his first drink he smelled it. He had smelled coffee before, but never with so much detail, the smell triggered memories as his stomach growled with anticipation. Jiro had discovered his first sense, which he decided he enjoyed very much.  
  
This was quickly followed by taste. Seconds after the coffee hit his tongue the pains in his stomach calmed, finally successful in getting their point across. Jiro set the mug down and took a bite of his turkey sandwich, stacked extra by the old cook. The second bite confirmed what the first bite suggested, taste was now his favorite sense.  
  
…………………  
  
He used the money the cook let him keep on a small room in the motel down the road. He could only pay half price, and when he showed the desk clerk the money he received a malicious glare. "Don't use the shower, don't use the TV. This pays for the bed, that's it. And no breakfast in the morning."  
  
Jiro swept the key into his hand and gave a curt nod before turning and leaving the small reception area to find his room, 13. The door opened with a loud squeal of protest to reveal a cramped room with a twin bed in the middle and a small television against the wall. It smelled of mold and cigarettes and he feared turning on the light to see the colors clearly. Instead he let himself fall onto the firm, stiff, and utterly inflexible bed, letting sleep overcome him.  
  
The morning woke him with a third sense; sound. Morning birds chirped happily as the sun peeked in through the brown curtains. He closed his eyes again and listened carefully to the singing birds, the gently blowing wind, the sound of traffic as cars passed the motel, the dripping of the sink in the bathroom, the gentle humming of the heater in the corner, his soft breaths, his beating heart.  
  
He let his eyes drift open and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. It's white paint had turned a light tan over the years and was peeling in certain places. His head slumped to the right and to the left. No, Jiro decided without question, sight was not so different. In fact, it was the first sense that he believed was not as strong in human form as it had been when he was a robot. His eyes took in less light and could not see as far. A little disappointed, but opting to ignore such motions, he got up. Did he really think everything would be better if he was human?  
  
'Yes, I did.' But as he stretched he could feel his sore muscles object to the movement. He could not remember a lot of things, either. Slight amnesia, he proposed, they would return with time. Time… did he still have time? As a robot he was immortal for as long as he was cared for. He had never measured time, for eternity to him was not measured in years, it was a mere instant. It was no time at all.  
  
He stood up and pushed the curtains away with his hand, peering out the window onto the street. Dozens of people combed the sidewalks or drifted by in cars. His heart was filled with pity as he considered that of all these people, not one will be alive when a hundred years have gone by. He looked down at his arm, scraped and burned from the previous day's events. 'How fragile these people are. Even I am brittle and breakable. And eternity no longer protects me, even I will…' Jiro let go of the curtains and watched as they fell back into place. He could not finish that statement, he did not like the sense of sight.  
  
………………  
  
Jiro sat back on the couch in the living room, letting himself sink into the cushions a little. Mistuko sat beside him and opened a book in her lap. He let his arm drift behind her head and wrap around her shoulder, hugging her towards him a little more. He glanced at the book, never fully taking in the words on the page, before letting his head turn toward the large window that let the sun in and presented a view of Mitsuko's beautiful garden.  
  
His thumb and fingers found her skin under the sleeve of her shirt. He languidly caressed the flesh, enjoying the tingle he still received every time he touched her. Touch was unquestionably his favorite sense. Once upon a time he had just over a dozen sensors on each hand, and another few dozen spread throughout his body. Now he has millions of nerves on each finger, billions all over his body, covering every inch of skin and absorbing every sensation. He could feel the pressure of her against his side, the softness of her skin, supple and honeyed against his calloused fingers. He was always touching things, learning their texture, memorizing their feel. He never wore gloves, not even in the bitter cold, and often walked around without socks or shoes. He'd stand in the rain, the wind, the sun. He loved the subtle differences between a shower and a bath, the ocean and a pool. The wind of fall compared to the breeze of spring.  
  
Jiro felt eyes on him and turned to find Mitsuko studying him intently. He gave her a small smile and placed a feather soft kiss on her lips before pulling her to his side for a hug. She rested her head on his shoulder and pulled her legs onto the couch before opening her book again. In a hundred years she would be gone from his side. Once upon a time this thought often ran through his mind, and every time it did it brought him pain. A deep rooted fear had formed along with this proposition; he would have to spend eternity without her. He did not fear her death now, he did not need to. 'I will die. I will not have to stand aside and watch the people I love abandon me.'  
  
Being human is… different than he expected. He was not complaining.  
  
…………………  
  
THE END! YAY! Different, huh? AU, I know, but I was just messing around. R/R! 


End file.
